


it started with a whisper (and that was when i kissed him)

by lovinglied



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A lot of horrible sweet caroline jokes, Canon Universe, KEITH SINGING, Keith singing Billie Eilish, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, This is completely self indulgent, a lot of rambling because theyre dumb, broganes, i dont know jackshit about the castle's layout, ive always wanted to tag something that, nonbinary pidge, pining lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:51:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinglied/pseuds/lovinglied
Summary: For all he knew, it was modern day folklore. Keith? Singing? Even Keith talking without cause was a rarity, so the idea of Keith like, opening his mouth with the intention of making music was something that Lance felt obligated to witness. In a completely normal and wholesome way. Not unlike how one might long to see the Eiffel Tower, or something. Purely for the experience. Also partially for the bragging rights.Or, the one where Keith sings around the castle and drives a certain boy mad.





	it started with a whisper (and that was when i kissed him)

**Author's Note:**

> lord! this is the first fanfic/oneshot I've written in like two years and it was 100% self indulgent. it's really not my fault that steven yeun has a fucking beautiful voice and I just Needed to write about lance witnessing it. also keep in mind that i'm just pulling things out of my ass for how the castle is set up, and i'm so sorry for the lack of hunk i love him so much he just didn't find his way into this story. anyway, enjoy !!

It started with a whisper. 

 

The crisp sound of a ‘ _ k _ ’. The smoothed over sound of a soft ‘ _ c _ ’ or an ‘ _ s _ ’. The modest sound of a ‘ _ t _ ’. During complete silence, Lance would hear it. Ghosts of what could’ve been words escaping from Keith when he thought no one was listening. With headphones fogging the space around him, he’d appear to be maneuvering through his own atmosphere, his ears hogging the sounds to himself, but his lips lightly emulating lyrics. Catching him in the act of relishing in his music was unlike anything Lance had ever seen from Keith before. The consonants and breaths of phrases coming in wisps from Keith’s lips, and dangling over the edge of his mouth whenever Lance was there to hear it, spewed adoration throughout the taller boy.

 

The first time he witnessed it, said boy had been venturing to the kitchen for what would qualify as a mid-afternoon snack on earth, although Lance would argue that with no rising and setting sun to dictate their day, anytime was snack time in space. But before he could even reach the room’s entrance, Lance was stopped short by the sound of the food goo machine dispensing, and shoes scuffing their way towards the room’s center, where a couch resided. Lance had just chatted with Hunk and Pidge, knew Allura and Shiro were training on the deck, and doubted Coran could spend a single second without engaging in conversation with somebody, so that left one name left unchecked. But of course, Lance wasn’t about to saunter in on Keith, especially now that he had discovered something very intriguing about how he spent his free time.

 

He sang. 

 

Not completely, as Lance would soon deduct, but just whispers. Either way, once Pidge had accidently let it slip that Keith and them had had an enthusiastic conversation entailing musicianship, specifically that of the vocal chords, Lance had become weighted with the concept of Keith singing. Like, what the fuck would his voice sound like? Pidge had assured him that Keith could hold a pitch, and Lance had immediately demanded they explain how they knew that, but like the fucking bitch ass Pidge was, they refused to reveal anything. “I can’t, per say, tell you,” Pidge had said, “but who knows! You might get lucky enough to catch him doing it yourself!” 

 

And that was enough to plant the seed. 

 

For all he knew, it was modern day folklore. Keith? Singing? Even Keith talking without cause was a rarity, so the idea of Keith like, opening his mouth with the intention of making music was something that he felt obligated to witness. In a completely normal and wholesome way. Not unlike how one might long to see the Eiffel Tower, or something. Purely for the experience. Also partially for the bragging rights. And if Lance was reading this current circumstance correctly: Keith was alone, chowing down on an afternoon snack and most definitely sitting on the couch. If a scenario was ever so promising as this, Lance would love to hear of it. 

 

Putting all his faith into the durability of the castles floors and their ability to not creek, Lance continued down the hallway at a regular pace. He only came to a halt once he heard it: the faintest of the faintest of hums. One that sounded too deliberate to be accidental, and too melodic to be meaningless.

 

_ Is this what gold miners think when they like, actually find gold?  _

 

Before any doubt could take over ( _ maybe he’s like, watching a video? Yeah, like a, a- nature documentary or something edgy and liberal like that, because surely Keith is edgy and liberal? Yeah. And. And the narrator probably said something really environmentally aware and maybe Keith’s like, really into energy conservation and so he’s like Wow, that’s really environmentally aware! and then hums a little in approval? I mean that has to be why he- _ ) 

 

Lance’s train of thought was dissembled by a second hum, the likes of which you could probably more properly classify as a riff. Lance felt his skin clear and crops flourish. His first instinct was to burst into the room bearing the pique of exquisite comedic content -  _ Top 10 Mulleted Singers, Number 6 Will Shock You, Because It’s Keith Fucking Kogane! _ \- but for some reason, he found the usual playful urge he experienced around Keith to be dormant, perhaps doused by the notion that this boy was just barely, but still evidently bringing music into the walls of the castle. It seemed delicate - almost vulnerable - coming from Keith, who always appeared to be somewhere between desperately attempting to control his emotions, and seeming hopelessly controlled by them. 

 

Lance had never let himself consider Keith’s music taste. _ Fuck - what if it’s good. I mean, I should suspect that someone like Keith would like, I don’t know, be really opinionated with his music? If that makes any fucking sense? He probably listens to some type of respectable indie rock or alternative shit that I’ve never even heard of - Jesus Christ, he definitely seems like the type of guy to read fucking music blogs or something.  _ Lance let himself silently drift through the doorway and into the kitchen, where Keith’s breaths seemed to coat every surface of the room as his words echoed about. As Lance edged further into the room, with only Keith’s back to greet him, the words, while still whispers, became tangible as Lance picked up on chunks of lyrics.

 

_ “Lips meet teeth and tongue  _

_ my heart skips eight beats at once” _

 

From what Lance could see over his shoulder, Keith was defacing one of Allura’s books with an absent minded doodle. Headphones lazily hung from his ears, emerging from beneath locks of black hair and tangling over his shoulder towards a small unidentifiable device to his left. He sat on the couch in the middle of the room, legs twisted into a criss cross and a blue throw blanket adorning his back. 

 

_ “If we were meant to be, we would’ve been by now” _

 

Lance’s heart literally came to a full ass fucking stop as Keith’s breaths took on a melody. A fucking melody.  _ Keith was singing. _ The rise and fall of his delicate voice was extremely uncalled for. I mean, Lance was ready to call it a good ass day with literally just having heard faint whispers of lyrics from a soft and pleasant Keith, but like, this was great too! And as much as Lance wanted to think it was uncharacteristic of him to sing under his breath like this, it struck Lance that there was quite literally no reason for him to know that. It’s not like he knew Keith that well. Maybe he was the type of guy to dominate at karaoke or something, although Lance sincerely doubted that. He could attribute that doubt to the fact that if Keith knew he was standing here right now, he most certainly would not be doing anything close to singing. 

 

The days that followed this initial encounter were filled with Lance taking every opportunity to be where Keith could be, more so than before. He’d saunter down to the training deck during all hours of the day and spend excessive amounts of time in the kitchen, just on the off chance that Keith - that Keith what? That he’d purposely stroll on in and start belting out the last chorus of some fucking power ballad? Lance didn’t know what he was expecting, only that he really, really, really, wanted to hear Keith sing again. 

 

The next incident wasn’t really one large imprinting event, but rather a sequence of them. What’s that called? That thing when you learn something or acknowledge something significant for the first time, and then you start to notice it everywhere, so it feels like a strange coincidence that this thing is happening or being mentioned so often, but it’s really just cause you’re so tuned into it? Lance wasn’t sure, but something was definitely up, and he was certain that it wasn’t just his paranoia -  _ am I the only one seeing this???? _ \- because suddenly Keith’s singing career seemed to take off with rapid succession. 

 

For instance, Pidge would be discussing something sciencey, and right as Lance was preparing to completely zone out, his brain would selectively hear them mention the word  _ music _ or  _ song _ or something along those lines, which in case you had forgotten, was Lance’s current trigger topic. He tuned in. 

 

“Oh my goddd! I haven’t thought about that song in years! God, what was that part? Like the catchy part, like th- you both know what I’m talking about, right?” 

 

Lance’s nod of the head was instantaneous, his attention half on Pidge, and half on Keith’s response to Pidge. But since not all of us can be immediately attentive after the mention of music, especially if preceded by what seemed like hours of droning on about the mechanics of the castle’s defensive tactics, Keith was rather late in his reply. 

 

Pidge’s face fell into a dry stare, and they waved a gloved hand in Keith’s peripheral. “What a fine day to request the presence of  _ Keith Kogane _ .” Said boy seemed to sputter to a start, his eyes snapping to Pidge, and then dashing to Lance for a heart stopping millisecond. Lance would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent the majority of Pidge’s rambling stealing glimpses at Keith, trying to gage his reactions to what was being said and maybe get some insight as to what Pidge had that Lance didn’t; what made them so special? Why would Keith unveil his musical secrets to Pidge? Why on earth, or rather  _ not on earth _ , did he care? 

 

“W-what’s- What did I miss?” Keith stuttered, probably in reaction to Pidge’s dead faced glare, which shortly lightened up to a bored expression as they muttered, “Nevermind..” Silence followed, and suddenly the conversation came to a halt. 

 

This set off immediate red flags in Lance’s mind.  _ Wait! _ He wasn’t about to let Pidge drop the subject of music, not like this. Not in the presence of Keith, who’s musical essence Lance had been so eager to capture as of late. He had to swoop back in and jumpstart their exchange before the opportunity was lost. 

 

“W-wait, no!” he spat out, causing Pidge’s eyes to meet his with a raised eyebrow, and Keith jumped a little in his seat. Lance cleared his throat, “I- I think I know what song you’re talking about!” 

 

Pidge looked virtually unconvinced, but humored Lance anyway. “You do? Like, the one they would play at lunch on Friday’s at the Garrison?” 

 

Lance nodded, but not before stealing a glance towards Keith, who he noted had continued to pay attention to their conversation, and even so much as join in with, “OH! Yeah, I think I’m following you too, Pidge.” 

 

Pidge smirked, and it was at this very moment Lance realized, much too late, that he had fallen into a trap. They turned to Keith, and before Lance could intercept them, now terrified of Pidge’s power over the situation, said paladin replied, “How did it go again? It’s been driving me absolutely crazy that I can’t remember! Like, they literally played it everyday and for some reason it’s just not clicking in my head! Keith, do you remember how it went?” 

 

Lance’s eyes grew impossibly wide as he watched Keith’s expression soften, and he nearly choked when Keith replied, in his patented  _ tender Keith _ voice, “Yeah, I think I do.” 

 

Pidge gave Lance one more look before turning back to Keith and nudging his side, “Well, don’t leave us hanging! Show us!” 

 

_ No no no no no- NOT here and definitely NOT now!! What the fuck Pidge! You can’t just do shit like this without any warni- _

 

“Well, the chorus sort of went like - mmmmmm, mmm, mmmm,” 

 

“Bum! Bum! Bum!” Pidge chimed in. 

 

“Yeah, like that-”

 

“GOOD TIMES NEVER SEEMED SO GOOD!” Pidge rocketed to their feet, somehow scooping up Keith and by extension encouraging Lance to stand up as well, although Lance was unsure about his strength capacity and muscle capability at that moment. His brain was a sort of fuzz, feeling somewhere between like he had just emerged from a coma, and like he was about to fall into one. In fact, that didn’t sound so bad to him.  _ Putting myself in a coma right now? My Schedule seems fairly clear-  _

 

“I’ve! Been inclined!” Keith sung, and his voice was- what the fuck? It sounded vaguely like his talking voice, but definitely much sweeter, and nothing like it did when he was whispering- no, there was strength to it, like he was practiced and professional and Lance was afraid his heart would stop if he heard another second of it- 

 

“To believe they never would! But, now, I” 

 

At this point, Pidge was circling Keith, skipping to some invisible beat, and Lance stood awkwardly and awestruckenly to the side, his eyes nearly skipping Pidge all together as he kept his vision trained on Keith, who stood statically, his arms spread out and head tilted up and a light smile on his face and Jesus Christ why the fuck wasn’t he a famous singer back on earth? Who signed up this kid for flight school? For someone with typically little to no charisma, he was almost entrancing now, his gentle voice bouncing off the castle walls and filling the space like an empty arena. To say Lance didn’t know what to do with himself was an understatement. 

 

And this incident was just the first of many for that day. As Lance would soon learn, when an ear worm like Sweet Caroline enters any premise, it scarcely has any of intentions of leaving so soon. 

 

They were at dinner, for god sakes, when Pidge was humming the dreaded tune, and it caught on like wildfire, not excluding Keith. Lance was running out of reasons to live. If there was a God, why hadn’t he stopped this? Because sitting next to Keith at meals (simply a circumstance based habit; Lance had tried to sit somewhere else but Pidge had shrieked in his ear about assigned seats and not wanting to make ‘these types of sacrifices’ and Lance had quickly shuffled back to his original spot) meant that every word of Keith’s was broadcasted directly into Lance’s very ears. 

 

Now, as good as that may sound, (and that’s meant in the most literal sense), having to maintain a seemingly unphased composure was not something Lance wanted to have to do while Keith was singing softly in his ear. No - Lance wanted to tattoo the lyrics to Sweet Caroline on his ass, and find a way to either bottle sounds or stop time. He wanted to commemorate Neil Diamond in literally every way possible. He wanted to track down the Caroline in question and tell her to never change. He wanted to routinely attend the eighth inning of every Red Sox game like his life depended on it.  _ Keith is literally a living breathing replicant of every mediocre sounding baby faced popstar I’d stan back at home. Except he’s far from mediocre; he’s fucking incredible. _ And when it came to upholding an unbothered posture while being funneled auditory gold, Lance was way out of practice. In fact, he couldn’t seem to recall any experience in which these skills would’ve been applicable in his past. It was like using a muscle in a way you had never used it before: it hurt to the point where it was borderline unbearable, and you knew you were gonna be really fucking sore the next day but you didn’t care; it was for the greater good. 

 

_ The greatest good _ , Lance kept repeating to himself.  _ A good that exceeds all other goods. If I can make it through this one dinner, I may come out on the other side unscathed. Besides, Keith never sang before today anyway, (at least not publically) so it’s not like I’ll need to map out battle strategies for future impromptu serenades.  _

 

Lance didn’t watch much Arrested Development back on earth, but looking back at this dinner, he could’ve sworn he’d heard the narrator in the background remarking _ ‘But Lance would soon find himself eating his words.’ _ Because Lance’s greatest vice was underestimating the power of Sweet Caroline. 

 

So what began as an oath meant to swear himself to resistance, one that he would’ve signed with blood had it come down to it, suddenly turned to an intrusive thought -  _ I wonder what Keith’s up to right now? You should go find out _ \- which morphed into several self deprecating bouts of anger, which devolved into an internal battle to the death between  _ GO SEE _ and  _ STAY PUT _ , and as soon as Lance found himself leaping to his feet and exiting his room, he knew pretty clearly which side had come out victorious. 

 

Finding Keith at the training deck calmly sharpening a small blade while humming the pre-chorus of Sweet Caroline had not been on Lance’s bucketlist before now, but that was only because Lance was a fool. And he had this sudden revelation, in which he realized he was a fool, immediately after he felt his heart rate considerably quicken and pulse leap through his veins and face turn the color of Keith’s jacket. No. No  _ no _ . Keith should  _ not _ have this effect on him. 

 

But he did. And that’s what made Lance a fool: thinking that it meant nothing when obviously it really, really did. He wanted to reason with himself, let  _ GO SEE _ and  _ STAY PUT _ have a rematch, watch  _ STAY PUT _ have an epic redemption arc, and casually return back to his room. As if Keith hadn’t just disrupted his blood pressure. 

 

He was en route to calling it quits anyway and heading out of the room when Keith noticed his presence. His expression remained blank, although Lance could hear tension in his voice when he asked, “How long have you been standing there like that?” 

 

Lance smothered a gulp in his throat, swaying uneasily on the balls of his feet, before sputtering out, “Uh, since now?” 

 

Keith looked unimpressed, but he put the blade down in his lap and said, “You come here to train?”

 

It took Lance a second to realize what Keith had probably meant - _ Did you come here to train with me?  _ \- and his eyebrows shot up. He could've sworn Keith looked the tiniest bit hopeful, so that had to've been what he was implying, right? But Lance was not about to risk being in a compromising situation, say, about to go in for the winning blow, and then end up falling on his face after his opponent decides it would be a cute time for an impromptu reprise of everyone’s favorite song praising everyone’s favorite Caroline. Lance quickly crossed his arms and then uncrossed them, and then cleared his throat. God, he hated how awkward he must’ve looked. “Uh, no. Of course not. Me? Train? Pff, no. Nope.” 

 

Keith’s face remained level, save for the one eyebrow he raised as he replied, “So…”

 

“So what?” 

 

“.... Why are you here.” 

 

Oh. Right. He  _ was _ kind of just waltzing on into the room with little to no plausible motive, reason or endgame. He definitely looked dumb as fuck.  _ Jesus take the wheel _ , Lance thought, as he spat out the first excuse that came to mind: “I was lost.” 

 

Keith looked visually distraught at this point, his lips quirked down and eyes squinting incriminatingly at Lance. “Lost.” he echoed. 

 

“Yes.” No use backing out of it now. 

 

“Lost,” Keith stood up from the bench he had spent the duration of their conversation sitting on, and gently placed his blade where he had just been as he continued, “in a castle we’ve spent the what, last whole year in? Like, everyday? For a whole year?” 

 

“You said that twice.”

 

“Are you really- wh- what?”

 

Lance crossed his arms and eyed Keith inquisitively, “‘A whole year’. You said that twice.”

 

“So?” 

 

“So I got the point.”

 

Keith scowled and retorted, “ _ The point  _ was that you definitely aren’t lost, so you’re either just spewing bullshit or you’re dumber than I thought.”  

 

_ Oh _ . 

 

Lance didn’t know why he sort of felt hurt by that, but he didn’t have time to think about it because he was interrupted by the sight of Keith’s face falling. His eyes, which had just been partaking in the dirtiest look he’d ever given Lance, were suddenly soft and wide. The fists he had been baring began unravel at his sides, and his mouth took on the shape of a small ‘o’. 

 

“I-I didn’t mean that.” he softly spoke, and the acoustics of the room carried his voice to Lance, who was wondering if he had heard Keith correctly.  _ Keith? Apologizing in - dare I say it - his patented Keith voice? _  Lance would later claim that it was really more of a whisper - ( _ “I did NOT whisper a broken apology to you.” “Yeah, and you didn’t cradle me in your arms.” _ ). I mean, he personally thought his opinion to be pretty sound, since he considered himself quite the expert when it came to the dynamics of Keith’s voice. But whisper or not, it definitely caught him off guard. 

 

Lance didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He still didn’t say anything, even as Keith retrieved his blade and stepped around Lance in the doorway to exit the room, but not before giving Lance a look that could make any pouting boy band poster in teenage Lance’s room look happy in comparison. 

 

Lance wished he could’ve just brushed off the whole exchange like it was nothing, but their conversation left him in a sour mood for the rest of the day.

 

They were literally mid battle when Lance was introduced to the fourth horseman of his personal apocalypse: Sweet Caroline meets the comms. Said earworm had seemed to’ve made itself a comfy home in Keith’s vocal chords, and by extension, Lance’s eardrums. Because their current battle against a fleet of Galra ships was being soundtracked by a thrilling rendition of Lance’s favorite Neil Diamond song, sung by none other than - you guessed it - Keith. 

 

_ If Keith doesn’t stop humming directly into my helmet he’s gonna catch these hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching Keith, punching Keith in the literal face. Of course, I’ll have to wait until we get back to the castle to-  _

 

His train of thought was interrupted by Pidge’s voice coming through his helmet. A simple command for more defense on Voltron’s left. They had cut Keith’s humming off, much to Lance’s dismay, although he had to admit that he was much more attentive and helpful in battle after that.

 

And it went on like this for weeks: Keith, getting caught in song, and Lance, getting caught in a trance. And to Lance’s horror, it wasn’t just Sweet Caroline that Keith had the ability to sing. No, Keith disarmed him with phrases from other songs that he had never heard before. Sometimes when Keith had forgotten Lance was in the room, he’d hum. And  _ the whispers _ , they were just as large in presence. 

 

All that Lance knew was that if he ended up dead in the next few days, he’d want Keith brought in for questioning. 

 

But, of course, all good things must come to an end, and there came a point where Lance knew he’d be faced with either certain death, or flocking to the support of a parent, teacher, coach or trusted adult. And since he was sort of lacking in most of those departments as far as resources went, he turned to his next best option. 

 

Or rather, options. 

 

Because Lance didn’t intend to barge in on not only Pidge, but Shiro too. Although two parent-esc figures in the room to help him through his suffering didn’t sound all that bad. In fact, it sounded way worse in hindsight if anything, because the moment that Lance opened his mouth to say “This is my cry for help: Help,” he knew that he had grossly underestimated Pidge’s ability to be so damn condescending. Within seconds, he had spilled that there was a  _ certain paladin _ who was  _ infringing on the copyrighted material of Neil Diamond _ by means of  _ cruel and unusual punishment _ and that it was a  _ direct attack on Lance’s dignity and cognitive abilities _ . And there was indeed a reason Keith recommended that the math be left to Pidge, because it took them maybe less than 4 seconds to digest the proposed material, and connect it to recent events. It took Shiro maybe an extra minute or so, but he eventually got there. 

 

However any amount of delayed reaction time wouldn’t make Lance rest any easier; he had become an anxious fit of distress, feeling at once exposed and understood. Even if he  _ was _ beating around the bush (since actually admitting his feelings in a way that didn’t involve unsanctioned amounts of metaphors was something simply unrealistic), Lance really did enjoy the idea of his- his..  _ idolatry _ out in the company of his most trusted teammates, and awaiting their ever so valuable feedback. It still didn’t stop the bouncing of his legs or the tangled feeling in his throat, but it was a start.

 

“And this would have nothing to do to with our conversation about, say, Keith and his musical talen-”

 

“Please!” Lance exclaimed, sort of alarming himself as much as he had the other paladins, “Can you maybe like…” his gaze dropped to his feet shyly, suddenly feeling a little uneasy, “not use his name? It just makes it a little too real, and I- I just don’t-”

 

“Wait, Kei-  _ he’s _ sung in front of you?!” Shiro suddenly broke in, silently saving Lance from the embarrassing stream of words he was uttering. Pidge and Lance both raised eyebrows at the black paladin (a/n: this is pre black paladin lance :3 owo), whose face remained in a state of disbelief.

 

There was a beat before Pidge slowly drawled, “.. Yes?” Shiro’s expression was suddenly unreadable, his mouth pulled into a thin line. Pidge gave him a sharp look, before continuing with, “..And?”

 

Shiro sighed, but it came out like more of a scoff, as he said, “Ok, I’ll admit that this is selfish of me, but as his brother, I just kind of wished that..” he trailed off, but the sentence still felt finished. Pidge and Lance definitely understood what he as implying - that he wanted whatever singing moments between him and Keith to be inherently one of a kind - but Lance still wanted to hear him say it anyway. For reasons unrelated to his spiking jealousy. “...You kind of wished that..”

 

“I- well, uh- it’s-” Shiro cut himself off again, but this time he went on, “When Keith was younger - when he first came to our family - he talked very little. He... wouldn’t answer any of our questions, even simple ones about how he was feeling or what he wanted for dinner. He wasn’t rude, though. He’d do chores when asked, or help out around the house, but when we thought he would finally be up for talking, he’d sort of shut down again. We were all concerned for him, but once he grew more comfortable with us, he started to open up a bit.” Pidge and Lance were suddenly invested, previously unaware that they were in for a sob story.

 

“But it was limited, as you could assume. We didn’t want to pressure him, which turned out to be a good thing since he eventually came around.” Shiro now had a fond smile on his face, probably reliving the story in vivid detail in his head, but Lance was just sitting here wondering what the hell Keith singing had to do with any of this. Because obviously he wasn’t like, really concerned about this version of a young, vulnerable Keith that Shiro was speaking of. 

 

“But before that, he wouldn’t engage in conversation, nevermind try and speak up for himself. I remember he used to nod or gesture to things a lot, but that wasn’t always an adequate response. Which presented a problem when we shared a room together.” Shiro sighed, lost in thought for a second, before he went on, “The first time he came into my bedroom and saw the furniture we had gotten for him, he walked right over to his bed and pushed it up against the far wall. The complete opposite side of the room as me. I never took it to heart, though. I let him do what he needed to do to feel safe. But it wasn’t until a little later that I would find out how much he appreciated that.”

 

“Okay- I don’t want to ruin this tender moment we’re all sharing, but what does this have to do with-”

 

“I’m getting there Lance.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Shiro took a deep breath before continuing. “There was a night where I was watching a video on my phone, and it had a song playing in it. I don’t even really remember what the video was about, but all I remember is that as soon as it finished and I put down my phone to go to bed, suddenly I just heard, ‘Play it again.’”

 

“KEITH!” Pidge exclaimed, as if they were rejoicing at the entrance of a favorite character. 

 

“Yes.” Shiro nodded, “and what was I gonna say? ‘No’? To the kid who had literally said maybe two words to me the entire time he’d lived with us? Of course not. So I watched the video again, realizing that it had been the song that Keith liked a lot.

 

So I began to make watching the video a nightly habit. Keith never complained. I think it was my way at the time of trying to get through to him, but honestly I’m pretty sure all Keith cared about was just listening to the song. The little shit.” Shiro shook his head, but a smile was taking residence on his face. Lance found himself smiling instinctively as well, thinking it was so ridiculously in character for Keith to be that selfish. And rude. And demanding. And cute-

 

“And he must’ve memorized it at some point, because this one night when I hadn’t even played the video yet, I was walking into the bedroom, and he was just- he was singing. He was singing the song.”

 

_ ‘If I could get to sleep, I would’ve slept by now.’ _

 

“And I- I-” Shiro chuckled, “I didn’t want him to think he had to stop when I was in the room with him, so I didn’t say a damn thing. Didn’t even watch the video. Keith hadn’t spoken a full sentence to me or anyone in our family, but there he was: singing. It just meant a lot to me.” 

 

Pidge was now beaming, face reflecting endearment and a relaxed sense of pride, which was reminiscent of how Lance felt. 

 

“So yeah. Him singing around the house when it was just us home alone, or him humming to himself in the car on the way to school; just little things like that. And it was only around me. I don’t think we’ve ever directly discussed it outright, but it’s just always been something that I attribute our closeness to.”

 

Shiro grinned then, his speech coming to a close as he flashed them a dazzling smile, “So for Keith to sing so freely around you guys- that’s awesome! He must really feel comfortable around you.” 

 

Pidge and Lance would’ve smiled at that very moment, if they hadn’t been already. Lance hadn’t known that much about Keith’s past, but now that he did, he was just …  _ wow _ . Suddenly the quiet, brooding, irritable boy that he knew took on a new light; a light much more appreciative in nature. His first reaction was to press further -  _ How long did it take for him to really get close to you? How old was he? How did he get into piloting? _ \- but it sort of occurred to Lance that he was more interested in learning about  _ Keith _ than additional context. This alone set Lance’s wind whirling, only able to speculate as to why he cared so much. All of this had only happened because he couldn’t not quench his urge to witness Keith sing, but now he felt that maybe he had let it escalate too much. He had only wanted something else to make fun of Keith for. As stupid as it was, now he felt like the joke was on him. 

 

_But that’s still all_ , he thought to himself, _and the only reason you care about him and his singing still is because now you know that it’s a sign that he trusts you! That he trusts the team! That_ _should_ _make you happy!_ _Right???_ But as much as Lance wanted to feel good about that, and take pride in the fact that Keith felt comfortable enough around the team - around Pidge and Lance - to sing so openly, he found that for some reason it sort of struck a chord in him. A minor one, at that. Because Keith’s singing had never been exclusively just for him. Was that selfish? Eh, he didn’t know. But he hoped that any selfishness got canceled out by the fact that he also felt the _teeniest_ bit bad about sneaking around before, trying to catch him singing alone. Had Lance known how personal it was for him, and how close to his heart and his past the act was, maybe he wouldn’t’ve- 

 

Nah, Lance knew that was bulshit. He totally would’ve anyway. 

 

And that, my friends, is exactly what did him in. 

 

Because he did it again. Yes, the road to overcoming a slight obsession with your friend’s singing voice is a slow one, and it was for that reason that Lance found himself en route to the training room a few days later, hands feeling jittery and stomach eating itself alive. He felt a little like he had invaded Keith’s privacy, even if it was by means of receiving a brotherly tale of woe from a reliable source. Would Keith even want Lance to know about his past? It made him feel uneasy beyond belief. Which was dumb! Since he was only going to see Keith so that he could finally rub it in his dumb face that he had heard Keith’s dumb voice and thought the whole thing was dumb! And maybe catch him sing! Totally not to accidently ask about his childhood or tell him that he thought his voice was Grammy worthy. No. That’d be dumb. 

 

Except the only thing Lance found himself was dumbfounded, when he emerged onto the training deck to find Keith- well.. to find Keith training. Which was an ordinary thing for him to be doing, considering this  _ was  _ the training deck and this  _ was _ Keith that Lance was dealing with. And no, he wasn’t doing anything especially phenomenal - he appeared to just be running the same drill over and over again - and he wasn’t wearing something particularly flattering -  _ not that that would make the situation any different, right?  _ \- but still, Lance was dumbfounded. Dumbfounded by Keith. And this time, in a way that had nothing to do with him singing. 

 

It was just the sight of him that capsized any of Lance’s remaining hope that this was purely a fan-esc fascination with the red paladin. It was just, like-  _ Keith _ . The determined look taking residence on his face helped spot Lance’s heart in a double Cody back tuck front full quad combo. His speed, his agility, his elegance - it was all too much. It was frustrating too; trying to pinpoint the reason why Lance’s heart engaged in floor routines and gtramp combos when he saw Keith would be stupid if he continued to exclude the option that maybe.. it had to do with things outside of his control. Things that Lance was entirely familiar with. Things that abruptly swept him off his feet and sent his heart hurtling after him. Things that often led him to irrational actions and disappointment. 

 

_ Feelings _ . Somewhere in his mind, the idea of having feelings for someone was tethered to almost certain rejection. Lance caught feelings like he caught up with TV shows: much too quickly. He dedicated large sums of time to both of these things, but catching up on missed episodes was exponentially easier; he’d just press play and events would unfold in front of his eyes. Feelings were more complicated. They worked in mysterious ways; he’d tell them what to do and most likely, they wouldn't behave. Nothing just happened on command. And the consequences were _ real _ and  _ all encompassing _ because with feelings, he wasn’t the bystander to some scripted drama - he was the cause, and he was the effect. He was at once the antagonist and protagonist because there’s no singular narrative in life. As cheesy as it was, Lance sometimes found himself wishing that life worked itself out like a TV show. 

 

But as quickly as Lance had thought that, he wished that he could take it back. Because he realized that if life was like a TV show, it’d be littered with tropey shit, just like how presently, Keith had spun around to notice Lance (for the second time in the last week) standing in the doorway of the training deck. A-and was he.. smiling? 

 

Keith quickly demanded that the simulation be ended, and began making his way towards Lance, smile still smoothing over the once determined look on this face. It was not often, definitely not often enough, that Keith looked this bright. “Hey,” he mused. 

 

“Hi?” Lance offered weakly, still a little dazed, and frankly confused as to why Keith was suddenly being so nice to him. Especially after the way they had left things last time. Since then, they hadn’t been alone together, and Lance assumed that there was nothing to talk about. Just rivals being rivals. Just bros being bro-

 

“I think I know why you’ve been following me.” 

 

Just dudes being d- wait. WHAT? D-d-following what now? Lance’s eyes fully snapped open, suddenly scared that Keith’s third eye had just done the same. Keith knew- wait, how much did Keith know? Had Lance missed something? Had Keith been on to him in the kitchen that time? Had Keith been singing so pointedly because he was doing it purposely to bother Lan-

 

As soon as that thought entered his head, Lance was hooked on it.  _ No fucking way. I mean, it’s one thing for Keith to know that I’m following him, but it would be way too convenient if he’d been able to link it to anything other than his singing habits. He has to know. Fuck! And I thought I was being so slick too! But the whole time he was just messing with me. _ Lance’s calm outside suddenly flip flopped as rage flooded through him. 

 

“You were doing it on purpose, weren’t you?” Lance took an accusatory step forward, finger pointed directly at Keith’s smirk as he continued, “Do you like doing this to me?” 

 

Keith’s face suddenly collapsed into nothing short of confusion. “Doing- d-what?” For a moment, Lance’s confidence faltered, but he had to let that simmer in the back of his mind for a bit because  _ in no way was he finished.  _

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You really fucking- God, how much of this was planned? Was Shiro in on it too? He must be, right? I’m not stupid, Keith! What the fu- and I really believed his whole sob story about your childhood, and your singing and how that means you’re close with me-”

 

This time Keith couldn’t wait for him to be done, so he cut in with, “Woah, woah, slow down! Shiro said what w- m-my childhood? What the hell are you even accusing me of? A-and what did you say about me  _ singing _ ?” 

 

See, if life were like a TV show, right here would be the part where they would stay frozen in the frame and the dramatic music would swell up into its climax and the beginning of a Geico ad would cut into the tension because these types of cliffhanging moments all need a cool down. To digest and process the conflicting sides and let it all register before producing a response. 

 

But Lance didn’t get that much needed time, because this was happening now. He had misstepped again, and Keith wouldn’t forgive him this time. Lance’s brain shuffled through all his errors and miscalculations, and in a moment of desperate haste, he coughed up the only excuse he could think of. 

 

“Uh…. I’m lost?” 

 

Keith’s face twitched for a second, before his frustration resurfaced. “Yeah, me too, you fucking idiot,” he spat. Lance flinched, the situation now catching up to him and sending him into a panic. He stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing a thousand times before he settled on just closing it and taking in whatever accusations Keith had for him. “Well?” he muttered, his hands finding refuge in his coat pockets. 

 

“Well what?” Keith crossed his arms, humoring Lance again, but this time, it wasn’t funny to either of them. 

 

“Why did you think I was following you?” 

 

Keith scoffed as he kicked the ground sporadically with his feet, he arms falling out of their crossed place on his chest. “You-” he began, but he cut himself off by groaning and taking some much needed steps backwards. Away from Lance. He paced like this for a few moments, his eyes closing and breathing becoming more audible. 

 

Once Keith seemed to reassemble his train of thought, he let out a long exhale as he continued, “You make me so angry, did you know that?” 

 

Lance, who was presently barely responsive, didn’t know if the question was hypothetical or not. He answered anyway. “It had crossed my mind?” 

 

Keith’s frown strengthened, but Lance watched him inhale and exhale again, and noticed his hands clench and unclench at his sides.  _ He’s calming himself down.  _ He wished that thought hadn’t been immediately followed by,  _ he knows how to do that?  _

 

Keith signed again, and looked at Lance more pointedly this time. “I’ll begin by saying that I wish I knew what  _ on earth  _ you were talking about.” (It took strength and willpower, but Lance desperately resisted the urge to comment ‘ _ we’re not on earth’ _ , and let him continue.) “But I can’t really get that mad at you because it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that- that you make me this- this- God, I can’t make myself say it!” 

 

Lance stayed impossibly still as Keith stepped forward, his body unsure if he wanted to flinch back or drift closer and instead deciding to let it cancel out and just hold his position. But he was awfully close to Keith. 

 

“I never know what to say,” Keith sighed. “But if I did, then maybe we wouldn’t always get this heated? Because I never actually want to fight with you, but it always happens and it’s always my fault because as much as I want to blame it on you being stupid, I can’t because you aren’t. Stupid, that is. And I can’t blame you because it’s my fault that I get so frustrated and I don’t know why. And this is really random and uncalled for but I’ve been trying to figure out how to apologize to you for- for like, every conversation we’ve had that’s ended up like this. So. Yeah. This is me saying that I’m sorry. It’s my fault I don’t know how to communicate.” 

 

Keith’s ramble hit Lance in a way that was less like it was sinking in, and more like he had just choked him with it. There was nothing that Keith could’ve used as a preface to his unexpected apology to make Lance ready for it. He had been preparing for a much needed slap in the face in the form of a systematic call out rant, but Keith might as well’ve handed him a 5 page paper on why he had fucked up and blamed himself, which Lance would’ve had to move his bang and read again. Because  _ he  _ was supposed to be the one who miscalculated, not Keith. Lance tried to be as sincere as possible as he pulled his face into a sympathetic smile, and hoping he came across as genuine, because he really was, he said, “I don’t blame you for anything, Keith. And- and it’s okay that you don’t always know how to communicate because I- yeah, I am pretty stupid.” Lance laughed nervously. “And I don’t know what to say to you usually either so like, don’t think this has to do with your communication problems again, with me,” and thinking about what Shiro had told him, he added, “because I know you sometimes find ways other than just talking.” 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

_ Shit _ \- right. Now  _ that _ was certainly uncalled for and undoubtedly Lance’s fault. Keith didn’t know Lance knew about his childhood.  _ That probably sounded really fucking weird. _ How many times was Lance gonna mess up before he just straight up told Keith what he thought? 

 

Lance sighed, and decided to just spit it out, because he was tired of beating around the bush and he didn’t think he could stand one more minute of Keith looking so defeated. 

 

“You sing.” And even though he had wholeheartedly meant to say it, Lance couldn’t help but feel that these words had escaped him against his own will. Because the expression on Keith’s face was reminiscent of that part in A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Whatever starts flashing a whole arrangement of different faces in rapid succession. A multitude of expressions took over Keith as he digested the two simple words that Lance had given him as an explanation. And based on his reaction, Lance knew that he had definitely not been expecting him to say that. 

 

“I sing.” Keith plainly said, and Lance decided that if he made Keith think any longer about this, his poor head would simply explode. So he braved his nerves and explained. 

 

“That- that’s kind of why I’ve been following you? Not kind of- that is completely 100% why I’ve been following you. Well, I didn’t think you knew but uhh, I guess you do and I’m sorry I didn’t just say something earlier, but you have a really beautiful singing voice?” Lance surprised himself in saying it, but certainly not as much as he surprised Keith, whose expression now took on a look of bewilderment. Lance hated that he thought it was cute. 

 

“You’ve heard me sing.”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“When?”

 

“I mean, Sweet Caroline.”

 

“.”

 

“.”

 

“That’s not answering the question, Lance.” 

 

“I-I know! But maybe it can help fill in some unanswered questions.”

 

“Yeah, maybe, but it still didn’t fill in the one that I literally just asked you. When, Lance, did you hear me sing?”

 

“Don’t you know? I mean you yourself first pointed out that I was following you.” 

 

Keith squinted his eyes, but this time, there was nothing threatening about it. “So that was you in the kitchen….” 

 

“I mean, perhaps I-”

 

“And those other times you were-”

 

“Ok it didn’t happen _ that  _ often!” Lance protested. 

 

“You’ve been purposely seeking me out to hear me sing, haven’t you.” Keith smirked, taking a slight step forward. 

 

“W-woah Keith! That’s a very loaded statement! I mean, who’s to say that I wasn’t just-”

 

“Lost? Yeah, I’m totally right, aren’t I?”

 

“W-wh- yeah.” Lance sighed, giving up. “But it’s not my fault that you’re so good at singing! Ever since Pidge told me that you enjoyed it, I just- I just really wanted to hear you doing it. And I’ve been meaning to tell you that you were really dumb. For signing up for flight school instead of becoming a singer. Because I would’ve totally bought all your music and merch and gone to all your concerts and maybe we would’ve met anyway if I saved enough money to buy meet and greet tickets but what I’m trying to say is that you’re incredible. Really, I’m.. uh,  a little obsessed with you.” 

 

Yeah, Lance would admit that he sounded creepy, but Keith didn’t seem to care. Because as much as Keith was totally entitled to saying a big fat  _ ‘I told you so!’ _ , he looked a little surprised. No, that expression wasn’t surprise, it was flattery. Keith was flattered. He took a step closer as he questioned Lance further. “So.. that time you were here unannounced on the training deck, you were-”

 

“Trying to catch you doing it, yeah.” 

 

Keith’s sudden proximity was horrifying, and forget trampoline tricks- Lance’s heart was high diving, his insides rotating and tumbling and twisting and  _ Keith was so close. _

 

“And Shiro told you about my past.”

 

“Shiro told me about your past, yes.”

 

“So you know about the Billie Eilish song?”

 

“I-I think so, yes? The one in the video Shiro played?” 

 

“Yeah, that one.”

 

“Then yeah.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“.”

 

“Is that what you meant when you said I can communicate differently?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

“Y- wait what?” 

 

Keith’s face was less of an expression, and more of a question. A question much similar to the one he had just asked, in that it was soft and delicate and really damn tender and Lance felt incredibly attacked. He couldn’t just let Keith.. unhinge him so suddenly and so easily. But really, what was new? Keith had been doing it all this time. It had never really been about his voice, not since Lance had first sought him out or made an effort to see him. He suddenly decided that yes, as much as Keith’s singing voice was one of the most beautiful things he had experienced in his short life, he knew that in the scheme of things, seeing Keith look so vulnerable and dazzling and breathtaking like he did now was infinitely so, so, so much better. Lance felt childish and warm and a little dizzy and at a loss for words, but he couldn’t just let Keith- do  _ that _ . Look like  _ that _ and say things like  _ that _ and be sweet like  _ that _ and sing like  _ that _ -

 

And  _ that  _ was when he kissed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> i dont even remember the name of the damn neon trees song that this whole fic is based on lol i just thought that those lyrics lended themselves nicely to the plot. so thank u for reading !! i actually think im obsessed with writing from lance's perspective and i hope i did him justice. u can find me on twitter at @thepaiadin and im making a new vld tumblr so i can start posting about the other side projects im working on there !! side projects including a whole album's worth of music ive written about keith and lance. more about that on my twitter !! ;)
> 
> kudos would be appreciated and comments make me so incredibly happy !! pls lemme know if there are any typos most of this is unbetaed and i hope i didnt make too many mistakes. 
> 
> xx


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